* * * * *
TO-MORROW.
Lord, what am I, that, with unceasing care,
Thou didst seek after me,—that Thou didst wait,
Wet with unhealthy dews, before my gate,
And pass the gloomy nights of winter there?
O, strange delusion, that I did not greet
Thy blest approach! and, O, to heaven how lost,
If my ingratitude's unkindly frost
Has chilled the bleeding wounds upon Thy feet!
How oft my guardian angel gently cried,
"Soul, from thy casement look, and thou shalt see
How He persists to knock and wait for thee!"
And, O, how often to that voice of sorrow,
"To-morrow we will open." I replied!
And when the morrow came, I answered still, "To-morrow."
From the Spanish of LOPE DE VEGA.
Translation of H.W. LONGFELLOW.
* * * * *
I GAVE MY LIFE FOR THEE.
I gave my life for thee,
My precious blood I shed
That thou mightst ransomed be,
And quickened from the dead.
I gave my life for thee;
What hast thou given for me?
I spent long years for thee
In weariness and woe,
That an eternity
Of joy thou mightest know.
I spent long years for thee;
Hast thou spent one for me?
My Father's home of light,
My rainbow-circled throne,
I left, for earthly night,
For wanderings sad and lone.
I left it all for thee;
Hast thou left aught for me?